A Drink and Fair Warning
by Min Daae
Summary: Written for Yuletide 2008. Afterward, Saetan felt a bit guilty that he hadn't warned Andulvar what he was about to face. Vaguely Saetan/Andulvar.


Saetan felt a little guilty, after, that he hadn't warned Andulvar before. Or at least told him a bit more than that the waif's friends wanted to meet him, if he had the time. Put like that, it sounded awfully innocent.

He supposed he was a little relieved when he stumbled out a few hours later, noises that made Saetan wince issuing from the room behind him, looking like he was fighting to stand. Saetan vividly remembered his feelings after first meeting that particular group of witches - and that was without considering the boys.

The man known to most of the Realms as the Demon Prince sank into the chair across from his friend and leaned his head back. "Mother _Night._"

"I know," Saetan said, sympathetically. "Yarbarah?"

"Please." He looked up, voice a touch reproachful. "Why didn't you warn me?"

"About what? That you were going to face a bunch of Jaenelle's adolescent witch friends? You knew that."

"I suppose the fact that they're friends with Jaenelle probably should have said something."

"Most likely," Saetan agreed, cheerfully, and the look Andulvar gave him could have melted stone. He stood and took the already prepared second glass off the table, offering it. "Here. It might help a little."

"I don't expect so. They're living here."

Saetan nearly spat out the mouthful of yarbarah he'd just taken. "_What?_"

Andulvar looked pleased. "They didn't mention that part?"

"No." He tried to put a dangerous rumble in his voice. It didn't work. There was, instead, a sinking sense of dread.

"Well, they seemed awfully sure of it to me. So if you're planning to say no..."

"Say no?" Saetan stared at Andulvar with something approaching horror. He didn't want to imagine that. Didn't want to even imagine trying to get the first word out. He'd never manage it.

"--I was going to say, "I'm not going to help," Andulvar added with a grin that was entirely too pleased. Saetan hissed at him, which Andulvar ignored, face sobering a touch. "Do you realize what's happening here?"

"I realize."

"There's a pair of Dea al Mon in there. Not to mention the kindred. People from territories we haven't seen in years. Centuries. And our waif...she's brought them out again. She's uniting the territories."

"Did you expect any less of Witch?" Saetan said, quietly, turning to gaze evenly at his friend.

"I didn't expect any less of Jaenelle," He clarified, with the slightest possible emphasis on her name. Saetan felt a little glow of pride that he knew was entirely unreasonable but couldn't quite smother anyway. Andulvar set down his glass and stood, smoothly. "Well?"

Saetan knew what he was asking, and winced. "I'm not going to tell them they can't stay here. Can you _imagine_ the kind of looks I'd get?"

"I'm going to try not to think about it." He smiled, a little. "That Karla's a wicked one."

"She stepped on my toes."

Andulvar laughed, the full-throated, truly amused sound even Saetan didn't hear very often. "She would."

He went back to his chair and settled in it. "What I'm really worried about," he said, carefully, "Is having _Khary_ permanently around the house."

Andulvar grinned again. It made him look younger, like the living man he'd known, once. "I'll keep them busy. That's what morning practices are for."

Saetan hesitated, then said, seriously, "I'd like you to teach the witches, too."

Andulvar's face quieted, and then he nodded. "Yes. I will." There was a brief silence as they both considered the implications of that. Saetan broke it, making his face deliberately thoughtful.

"Now, let's picture how Mrs. Beale is going to feel about a marauding gang of hungry adolescent witches and Warlords..."

Andulvar winced, and held out his glass. "Mother Night. I'd have to be drunk before I'd consider thinking about that. Maybe we can just not mention it?"

"Sounds fine by me," Saetan said, with a small smile that Andulvar returned. They didn't really need to say anything for a moment, eyes saying enough. This time Andulvar broke the silence.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? What our little waif is doing..."

Saetan just nodded. Andulvar crossed to behind his chair and set both hands on his friend's shoulders, looking out the window at the twilight sky, not speaking, sharing a companionable silence.

"SaDiablo?" Andulvar rumbled eventually.

"Hmm?"

"I'd appreciate it if next time I'm about to walk into a war zone, you'd warn me." His voice was mildly tart. Saetan caught himself smiling just soon enough to eradicate it.

"I felt you deserved to be caught off your guard a little. It'll keep you young."

Andulvar growled. Saetan laughed. "You," Andulvar warned, and Saetan couldn't help more of a laugh. A moment later Andulvar joined him, one hand giving Saetan's head a sideways shove. He turned his face upwards to see Andulvar smiling down at him, golden eyes the hue of melted butter, his beautiful wings half spread. "You, SaDiablo, are a bad man." The Eyrien bent and pressed his lips lightly to Saetan's upturned forehead. "Have a good evening." He turned and started out the door. Saetan felt an incredulous sense of dread starting in the pit of his stomach.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," said Andulvar, lightly. "Have fun. I heard they're planning a surprise tonight."

"A surprise?" Saetan jerked to his feet, alarmed. "What kind of surprise?" His friend shrugged, gracefully.

"I don't know. You could ask, I suppose." One of those arrogant, Eyrien, grins. "Have a great evening." He spread his wings and sprang into the sky before Saetan could do more than gape after him.

He shook his head. "Bastard," he muttered, and turned to go back inside, chuckling to himself.


End file.
